


burning star (frozen)

by tcnyrhcdey (stcrkson)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Accurate Marvel AU, Amnesia, Catholic Guilt, Catholic Steve Rogers, Catholicism, Cryogenics, Dissociation, Gen, Hallucinations, Hell, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Insanity, Isolation, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Sensory Deprivation, Suicidal Steve, Suicidal Thoughts, Super Soldier Serum, steve is Not Okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stcrkson/pseuds/tcnyrhcdey
Summary: It is a most grievous thing, trapping a mind that wants to die in a body that's fighting to live.





	burning star (frozen)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Al.  
> TW: hallucinations, non-graphic depictions of freezing and then unfreezing a body, implied abuse, suicide ideation, catholicism, dissociation, perceptions of hell, amnesia

_St. Michael the Archangel,_

_defend us in battle._

_Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil._

_May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,_

_and do thou,_

_O Prince of the heavenly hosts,_

_by the power of God,_

_thrust into hell Satan,_

_and all the evil spirits,_

_who prowl about the world_

_seeking the ruin of souls._

_Amen._

 

Steve had always hated the cold. It brought sickness and near death experiences every time it came. However, Steve thought he could handle plummeting into the ice for a day or two until the SSR came to get him - or his corpse - whichever came first.  

 

Steve was so very - horribly - wrong.

 

First came the freezing, his fingers and toes so cold they were stiff, and he was shuddering. Hyperventilating, in and out too quickly to actually bring in oxygen. He could feel the blood leave his skin, turning pale as a sheet. He whined, trying to turn on his side to find his body stiff and tingling. He felt so disconnected from everything, floating away.

 

Then came the burning, flames licking up Steve's feet, hellfire in his hands. Steve was suddenly cruelly reminded of his predicament - cruelly reminded of how alive he was - and a sob clawed its way out of his chest. Curling in on himself, he sobbed himself hoarse, then mute, grief rising up and drowning him. It was the last time he cried above ground in seventy years.

 

_Hail Mary,_

_Full of Grace,_

_The Lord is with thee._

_Blessed art thou among women,_

_and blessed is the fruit_

_of thy womb, Jesus._

_Holy Mary,_

_Mother of God,_

_pray for us sinners now,_

_and at the hour of our death._

_Amen._

 

Steve woke up suffocating. White everywhere, thick snow and ice blanketing his arms, keeping them pinned to his sides. Steve focused on his training, shallowing his breathing to prevent loss of oxygen, and tried to calm himself. Within minutes he descended back into panic. He was supposed to have died in this. He laid, prone and sick with panic, and heard a few straining notes of a song.

 

"Come with me, where chains will never bind you. All your grief, at last, at last behind you. Lord in Heaven, look down on him in mercy." He tried to reach forward - I'm ready, mother - to find himself unable to move. Her voice dissipated, leaving him trapped by himself once more, body too cold to produce tears.

 

_Forgive me all my trespasses_

_And take me to your glory._

 

Bucky's voice yelled at him through the snow, demanding that he pick himself up and find him. He heard the Commandos laughter filter in, always somewhere above him, taunting him. The nuns murmurs of displeasure bounced around in his skull. The worst was his mother, her soft voice telling him all his faults. _How could you have left Bucky there, I thought he was your best man 'till the end of the line._ He couldn't even ask to be let go; she was right. Time ran together, stringing him up like a soul on a rack - not a body, he lost that right.

 

_Glory be to the Father,_

_and to the Son,_

_and to the Holy Spirit._

_As it was in the beginning, is now,_

_and ever shall be,_

_a world without end._

_Amen._

 

Steve did not exist inside his body anymore, odd glancing touches against skin that didn't exist - belts against his left hand, always his left - sound alternating between murmurs and yelling always behind his ears, and he couldn't move. He would have moments of relative peace - flames burning him away and leaving a desolate husk - before trampled under unending waves of terror, leaving him worn out and exhausted. He saw demons with eyes that weren't his, cackling at him. He began seeing faces, glancing views of a, horrifically scarred and bloody, face. Nightmarish visions locked in the darkest parts of his mind. Unconsciousness was a reprieve that would not come.   

_"I will never let you sleep, I will never let you rest."_

 

Steve was trapped in eternity. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He was burning. Eternity was a long time to burn. Perhaps this was his hell, fornication and adultery were sins. Lust was a cardinal sin. Repent and then abstain.  

 

_My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart._

_In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,_

_I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things._

 

Steve had once tried, in an effort to retain some semblance of sanity, repeating his serial number. The numbers became meaningless in 5 minutes - 2 months.

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is Sarah Rogers, and my best friend is Bucky Barnes._

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is Sarah Rogers, and my friend is Bucky Barnes._

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is Sarah Rogers, and my best friend is......_

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is Sarah Rogers, and I had a best friend._

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is Sarah Rogers._

 

_My name is Steve Rogers. My mother is..._

 

_My name is Steve Rogers._

 

_My name is..._

.

.

.

Fire.

 

Light.

 

He was burning. Noise and touch came in, loud voices he could not block out, hands that were groping and everywhere. He heard loud screaming that seemed to go silent in much the same time frame as his throat going hoarse. If he had thought he was in hell before, he was sure now. Anything was too much. Then, there was a pinch - he screamed silently - and sudden, blessed numbness.

 

_Lord, have mercy_

_Christ, have mercy._

_Lord, have mercy._

 

_God our Father ln Heaven, have mercy on us._

_God the Son, Redeemer of the world, have mercy on us._

_God the Holy Spirit, have mercy on us._

_Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy on us._

 

**_70 years is a long time to wait for death._ **

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is Al](https://sleepyoldchild.tumblr.com/)


End file.
